


run your fingers through my hair and tug me closer

by aroacewritingplace



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Boys Kissing, Fluff, Hair, Hair Braiding, Hair Brushing, Hair-pulling, Harley Keener Has Long Hair, Kissing, Light Angst, M/M, Making Out, Nightmares, Panic Attacks, Peter Parker Loves Harley Keener's Hair, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, just a little tho dw, lets make that a tag lol, so much hair
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-27
Updated: 2019-07-27
Packaged: 2020-07-23 05:22:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20002984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aroacewritingplace/pseuds/aroacewritingplace
Summary: Harley let out a shaky breath he hadn’t realized he was holding in. “Alright. Guess I’m growing my hair out then.”Or, 5 times Harley liked Peter Parker playing with his hair, and 1 time he absolutely loved it.





	run your fingers through my hair and tug me closer

**Author's Note:**

> Right, so This was inspired by the way that wizard-stove on tumblr draws Harley's hair and a conversation we had; you should go check out their art because it's Fantastic I'll link a piece I love here so you can give them some love: https://wizardstove.tumblr.com/post/186413957539/idk-just-messin-around 
> 
> hope you all enjoy!

**1**

Harley frowned at his reflection, running his fingers through his hair. He hadn’t realized how long it had been since he had gotten a haircut; his hair was brushing his neck now, and curling over the cup of his ear. He pushed it back, absentmindedly hooking a lock with one finger.

“Hey there, stranger.” Peter poked his head into the bathroom. “What’re you looking at?”

“I don’t remember the last time I got my hair cut. Do you?” Harley swept his hand across the back of his neck, and felt surprised when he felt a wave of hair there, even though it had been that way for months, he just hadn’t realized.

Peter shook his head. “Must’ve been a few months ago. I just figured you had decided to grow it out or something. Why, did you only just notice?”

“I… yeah, somehow I didn’t even notice ‘till just now. Is that weird?”

Peter shrugged. “Depends, I guess. Do you hate it?”

Harley tilted his head as he took some time to really look at it. “No, I don’t think I hate it.” There was a golden piece that was falling over his forehead in a small arc, but no matter how many times Harley pushed it away, it simply sprung back. A small smile overtook his face all the same. “In fact, it might just be growing on me.”

“I, for one, think it looks pretty- wait, _growing_ on you? Was that a pun?” Peter squinted at him as Harley bit back a giggle. “Sorry, you have to shave your head now. I don’t make the rules.” Harley grabbed him around the middle as he made a dive for the razor underneath the sink, and the two collapsed in laughter. 

Harley held on tight to Peter’s waist while Peter’s hands wandered up to brush back a piece of hair that had slipped out from behind his ear. Harley felt the brush of Peter’s finger against his ear and in his hair and leaned into the touch, wondering what his hair would look like when it grew out a bit more.

“You really think it’ll look good?” He whispered to Peter.

Peter nodded, hand coming to rest on the back of Harley’s neck. “I think whatever you choose to do with your hair will look good, so don’t worry about it.” He smiled. “Cut it whenever you want, don’t cut it, it doesn’t make a difference. I still love you all the same.”

Harley let out a shaky breath he hadn’t realized he was holding in. “Alright. Guess I’m growing my hair out then.”

**2**

“Ugh.” Harley yanked the comb through his hair, grunting when it caught on the same snarl for the fourth time. “This is impossible,” he complained. “I don’t even know how this happened!”

Peter looked up from his phone and laughed. “It was the pillow fight last night. You got ambushed.”

“Right,” Harley griped. “I don’t think Nebula understands the concept of a non-lethal game yet.”

“Well, at least she only threw pillows this time.”

Harley shivered, remembering the coffee table incident. “Yeah, you can’t deny that she’s learning.” He yanked the comb through again, wincing at the tough knot. “I can’t get this out,” he said defeatedly. “I’m just going to live with this massive knot forever, and it’s going to become a part of me.”

Peter snorted. “Stop being so dramatic, Harls.” He put his phone in his pocket and walked over to where Harley was sitting on his bed, and plucked the comb out of his hand. With the other hand, he took the troublesome lock of hair in his fingers. “Wait right here.” There was a soft kiss on his forehead, lips brushing Harley’s hairline, and then he was gone, dashing from the room. 

Harley ran his fingers through his hair, pulling a few pieces behind his ear. It had been a few months since he had decided to grow his hair out, and for the most part, he liked it. It went nearly to his shoulders not, and he liked the way it tended to stick out in random places, like over his forehead and curling up to the side. 

Combing it, though. He hated combing it more than anything.

The door opened again, and Peter walked in with a triumphant grin and a few different items in his hand. He bounced onto the bed until he was kneeling behind Harley, fingers brushing the end of his hair. 

“When I was thirteen, May broke her arm,” Peter began. Harley hummed in acknowledgment and flinched as something wet sprayed into his hair and onto his neck. “Oops, sorry, that’s detangler.” Peter giggled slightly, and sprayed one more time, right on the tangled knot. “Anyways, she broke her dominant hand, so she had a really hard time brushing her hair. And you’ve seen May’s hair right? It’s super long and it can get real frizzy after a while.” Harley saw the hairbrush at his side disappear into Peter’s hand. “So, naturally, as a thirteen-year-old with nothing better to do, she asked me to brush when I got home from school, ‘cause my Uncle Ben had work until around dinnertime. She asked me to help out with that, too, but this story’s about hair, so.” 

The brush felt nice in Harley’s hair, much softer than the rough comb he had been tearing at his hair with. 

“Anyways, at first it was really difficult. I don’t really brush my hair, and I definitely didn’t back then, it was super short. So May showed me how to use a brush gently, and how to use detangler on it. And now I love it! It’s super relaxing for me, and for her. The secret is-” Harley tensed as Peter took the knotted lock of hair into his fingers. “-to hold the hair in one hand and brush the end. That way it doesn’t tug at your scalp, and you can’t feel it. See?” Peter grabbed Harley’s hand and brought it up to his hair. Harley ran his fingers through the slightly-damp locks and widened his eyes when it was smooth instead of hopelessly knotted.

“Also, use this brush. Or, actually, by your own, I stole this from Morgan’s stuff. Combs hurt no one but yourself, babe.” Peter continued to work his way through the rest of Harley’s hair, so softly and gently that Harley could barely tell he was doing anything at all.

“There.” Peter smoothed his hand over Harley’s hair. “All good.” 

Harley twisted to look at Peter, while simultaneously combing his fingers through his own hair, marveling at the smoothness. “Thank you.”

“I’ll do it anytime you like. I, uh, I like brushing your hair. It’s nice.” Peter blushed a little, a light pink dusting his cheeks. Harley laughed fondly, reaching an arm around to pull Peter in a tight hug, lips brushing against his cheek.

“You can brush my hair any time you’d like.”

**3**

“Hey, Peter, do you know where-” Harley stopped short in the entryway to the main room, eyes widening in surprise. 

His boyfriend was sitting on the center of the couch, eyes flicking between the television screen and the small girl sitting in between his legs. On the screen, a tutorial was playing for some sort of hairdo. 

“Just a minute, Harls,” Peter said absentmindedly. “I’m nearly done with Morgan’s braid.”

Morgan Stark gasped from where she sat at the base of the couch. “Harley’s here?” She began to wiggle as Peter deftly braided her hair, and only stopped moving when Peter reminded her that her hair wouldn’t come out right if she kept moving around.

Harley stepped closer and saw that Peter’s recreation looked pretty damn close to the example the video was showing. A few short minutes passed of Peter pinching brown locks and twisting them or tucking them away, and then a hair tie was grabbed from the side of the couch, tying Morgan’s hairdo off with a bright pink band.

“All done, cutie,” Peter said, and Morgan shot up like a rocket, running around the side of the couch toward Harley.

“Harley! Harley Harley Harley look what Petey did to my hair!”

Harley knelt down. “It looks very nice,” he said. “Peter did a real good job.”

One corner of Peter’s mouth twitched up. “Sure did. I can do all sorts of hairstyles now, thanks to YouTube, mostly.”

“I’m gonna show Mommy and Daddy!” Morgan cried, zooming out of the main room. Peter chuckled fondly as they both watched her go. 

“Was there something you wanted to ask me?” He turned to Harley.

Harley could have sworn there was, but he had completely forgotten it. “Um. I forgot.”

“Well, maybe you’ll remember later,” Peter said, unbothered, unaware of the gears turning in Harley’s head.

Flicking his eyes up to the screen, Harley pointed at the hairdo. “Do you think I would look good with a braid? Or do you think I’d look stupid?”

Peter examined the screen for a moment before looking back at Harley. “Well, your hair is a lot shorter than Morgan, so I don’t think this specific one would work for you, but maybe something else would. Why?”

Harley’s mouth was dry, and he almost felt embarrassed to ask this. “Would you braid my hair?” He said it in one big rushed, hurried to put it out there.

Peter’s eyes lit up in a way Harley had rarely seen. “Yes,” he said gleefully. “Of course I’ll braid your hair.”

“Okay,” Harley said. “I’ll, uh, go get the brush then. And a hair tie?”

“Yep,” Peter confirmed before calling to FRIDAY to search up braid tutorials. 

Harley felt a smile blooming on his lips as he grabbed his hairbrush - dark blue, Peter had bought it for him after Harley forgot to add it to the list for the fifth time - and a black hair tie, which Harley slipped it over his wrist. He had pulled his hair up in a ponytail before when it was getting too hot in the lab, but this was different. Harley couldn’t quite pinpoint why, it just was.

“C’mon, sit over here.” Harley slid into the spot previously occupied by Morgan, taking up more space than the small girl. He leaned against Peter’s knee as the brush began gently carding through his hair. Peter’s fingers came next, surprisingly ignoring the bottom half of his hair to card his fingers through the top near the crown of his head.

“Well, I did my best to tame it, but some of these curls-”

Harley sighed. “They’re impossible, I know.”

“Maybe if we put a straightener in them, but that’s something for Pepper to do.”

“Yeah, I don’t trust either of us around hot objects meant for hair,” Harley snickered. 

“I could burn it off, and then where would we be?” Peter groaned in a mock dramatic fashion. “Oh, the tragedy.”

Harley laughed, shoulders shaking. Peter flicked his back. “Hey, quit moving or I’ll never be able to finish.”

Harley stilled, sitting up straight as Peter moved his hair around. Conversation flowed easily and quietly between them. Harley remembered that he had wanted to ask Peter where Rhodey was, but Peter had no clue, either, so Harley abandoned that train of thought. Instead, he told Peter about Tony nearly setting fire to the lab again earlier that day.

Peter laughed. “You’d think wisdom would come with old age, but I guess not for him.”

Harley nearly shook his head before remembering that he was supposed to keep still. “I’m just glad DUM-E still has a fire extinguisher attached to it.”

“That too,” Peter said. “Hair tie?” Harley raised his right arm, Peter swiping the black band off him in one quick motion. “Thank you!” And then, after a quiet second. “All done.”

Gingerly, Harley raised his hand up to touch his hair. He ran it gently along where he can feel his hair pulled taunt and felt the groups of hair twisted and braided together tightly “What does it look like?” he said, a little breathlessly.

“Here, I’ll take a picture,” Peter said. After a moment, he handed Harley the phone. Harley gazed at the two braids running along either side of his head and touched the back of his head where both braids met in the middle and tied off. Harley didn’t say anything for a little too long, and he could tell when Peter shifted slightly and said tentatively, “Well… do you like it?”

Harley tipped his head back. “I like it a lot,” he said seriously. “You’re really good at this, sweetheart. Anyone ever tell you that?”

“Well, I think you just did,” Peter said, smiling when Harley reached up and drew him in for a kiss.

**4**

Harley felt confused. Maybe a little dazed.

“Hey, Harley, what are you doing?”

Harley blinked, realizing that he had been standing in front of the suit schematics projected in front of him for over ten minutes, yet he hadn’t done a single thing to it. He frowned, tilting his head back as he tried to make sense of what was in front of him.

It didn’t work. He stared at it for several more minutes, his focus slowly drifting away from him while he tried to figure out exactly what he was supposed to be doing.

“I’m- uh.” Harley closed the hologram, stepping away from that workspace to another one, where there was a mess of wires twisted together. He knew this was one of his projects, but couldn’t remember what it was for the life of him. “This is-” he shook his head, stepping away from there as well. He would have walked straight into a wall, but Peter caught him by the arm and pulled him back before he could.

Harley closed his eyes, trying to stop himself from breaking down in frustrated tears as he breathed in and out. “I’ve got to-” His mind went blank. He had no idea what he was supposed to be doing. He had stuff to do, he knew he had so much stuff to do, but it was all disappearing from his head faster than he could claim it. “I need to-” He was shaking, arm trembling against Peter’s steady hand. “There’s so much,” he whispered in a horrified tone. “I’ve got so much to do but I have no idea what to do.” That didn’t make any sense, it didn’t make sense to Harley in his head and he was sure it didn’t make sense out loud.

But Peter nodded like he understood, looking into Harley’s eyes and stroking his cheekbone with his thumb. “I think you’re just really stressed out, man.”

Harley exhaled shakily, somewhere between a breath and a laugh. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. Come on, let’s take a break over here.” Slowly, gently, Peter guided him over to the couch on the far side of the lab. Harley curled up against his side as they sat down, head nearly in Peter’s lap. His brain was still foggy with confusion and stress, and he started to speak.

“No, I have to-”

Peter’s fingers found a home in his hair, gently combing through his hair and scratching his fingers against his scalp. Harley took the first steady breath he had in a while, twitching fingers coming to a standstill as Peter ran his fingers through his hair, again and again, gently drawing the hair back from around his face. 

“You feeling any better?” Peter asked after a few minutes.

“Mhm,” Harley said. “Bet I’d probably feel even better if you never stopped doing this. Feels real good, sugar.”

He could see Peter’s blush through his half-closed eyes. “Well, it makes you happy, and I like doing it, so.” He didn’t finish his sentence but didn’t stop stroking Harley’s hair either, so Harley relaxed and let himself feel content, a little weightless, and safe.

**5**

Harley gasped and sat bolt upright, chest heaving. His head bowed forward and he drew his legs up under the covers until he could rest his forehead on his knees. His chest felt like it was being squeezed tight, barely allowing him to breathe. Tears streamed down his face as he fought to gasp out one singular word. “Peter!” 

“Harley?” The bed shifted beside him, and Peter sat up, the sheet falling off his bare chest as he reached for Harley’s shoulder. His voice was gravelly, shaky with sleep. 

Harley jerked away, panic overtaking any rational thought in his brain. He could barely make out Peter in the dark, just a bare silhouette against the soft glow of the moonlight outside. Peter’s voice softened, to the point that Harley could barely hear him. “Was it another nightmare?”

Harley nodded jerkily, eyes squeezing shut and twitching underneath his eyelids as he instantly visualized the nightmare he had been a part of just moments before.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” Peter sat up closer to Harley but didn’t touch him.

“I-” Harley’s voice broke as he remembered the nightmare more and more vividly. “It was about the time- the time you got shot.”

Peter hummed in understanding but didn’t say anything else.

“But you didn’t- you didn’t live, they shot you so many times and you wouldn’t- wouldn’t get back up.” The words poured from Harley’s mouth faster than he could process them, faster still until he was hardly aware of what he was saying. “And I kept- I kept trying to move you but you wouldn’t get up, you were dead, I couldn’t-”

“Hey,” Peter wrapped his arms around Harley’s side, leaning close to him. “That was weeks ago, remember?”

Harley sniffed. “Yeah,” he rasped. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see where the moonlight caught the fading scar on Peter’s chest, shining in the pale light.

“And I have accelerating healing, so I’m okay. It barely even hurt.”

“Liar.” Harley snorted, shaking his head. “It hurt you a lot, I could tell.”

“How?” Peter asked, sounding genuinely curious.

“Because you wouldn’t let go of my hand,” Harley said gently. “You wouldn’t let go until the bullet was out of your chest and Dr. Banner told you it would be okay.”

Peter smiled softly, and Harley didn’t miss that his eyes were glassy. “You caught me. It actually hurt like a bitch, I just didn’t want to worry you.”

Harley exhaled. “Tough, ‘cause I figured it out anyway.”

“Yeah, I should have guessed that you did,” Peter sighed. “No use trying to keep anything from you.” His hand rose and slowly began stroking through Harley’s hair, gently detangling it with his fingers and gently rubbing his scalp.

Harley let out a soft breath, tension bleeding out of his shoulders as he melted into Peter’s touch. They laid back down, Harley’s head on Peter’s chest with his hair splayed out around him.

The last thing he felt before he fell into a peaceful sleep was Peter’s fingers gently in his hair and the movement of his chest as he breathed in and out in a steady rhythm that lulled Harley to sleep. 

**+1**

Peter walked into Harley’s room, a man on a mission. Harley looked up from his phone in surprise as Peter sat down in the bed across from him. “What’s… up?” Harley asked warily, confused by the excited and determined gleam in Peter’s eyes.

“Okay, so I was talking to MJ earlier,” Peter said. “And she was telling me about this girl she’s been dating lately, and something she said gave me an idea.”

“What sort of idea?” Harley asked. 

Peter smirked. “I think it would be more fun if I just showed you. Okay?”

Harley’s mind raced, trying to think of what Peter could possibly be talking about. But he trusted him. He trusted Peter more than he trusted himself, probably. So he nodded. “Okay. Show me.”

Peter’s face split into a bright grin. “Good. I’m pretty positive you’re going to like this. First, though-” He reached up with one hand, pulling at the hair tie that was holding Harley’s hair up in a ponytail. It tumbled down around his shoulders, curling under his chin and out to the side of his head like it always did. Then Peter’s hands were cupping his jaw, thumbs brushing his cheeks. Then he kissed him.

Harley thought he would never get used to Peter’s kisses as long as he lived. A firm press of the lips that lingered for only a moment before his mouth opened, tongue darting out to press at the seam of Harley’s lips. Harley broke the barrier, pressing against his boyfriend with equal force as his tongue glided past Peter’s teeth, brushing the room of his mouth. Peter exhaled heavily from his nose, the air warm against Harley’s face. They kissed for a few moments, silent except for the occasional noise Peter made at the back of his throat when Harley took the other boy’s bottom lip in between his teeth.

“Okay,” Peter said shakily, pulling back from Harley’s lips ever so slightly, leaving hardly a breath between them. “I think you’re distracting me now,” 

“Well, I think I’m okay with that,” Harley murmured, leaning in to capture Peter’s mouth with his own again.

Peter hummed, and his hands began to move. One held Harley’s jaw steady, firm against his chin, and the other drew backward, carding through his hair like he had done so many times before. Then Peter’s fingers tightened in his hair, and Harley’s eyes widened as his brain realized what Peter was about to do, something he had been thinking about for weeks but hadn’t had the courage to speak up about.

A low, throaty moan escaped from Harley’s mouth as Peter pulled on his long hair, tipping his head back with the force of Peter’s fingers. “Oh- oh my god,” Harley stuttered as Peter’s mouth detached from his own to kiss and bite at the hollows in his throat, slowly, almost painfully working his way downward. His hand shifted, moving up further in his head to tug at the base of his hair, eliciting another deep moan from the blond boy. “Holy shit, sweetheart, yes.” His hands tightened around Peter’s waist and he gasped as Peter darted up to press a bruising kiss into his swollen lips while pulling his hair to the side to tilt Harley’s head. 

Harley felt himself melt like putty in Peter’s hands as the other continued to fist his fingers in Harley’s hair and kiss him senseless. The sensation of Peter’s fingers tight against his scalp was like nothing Harley had ever felt before and everything he had dreamed of. Babbling pleas he hardly comprehended tumbled forth from his lips, swallowed by Peter’s press against him. Harley felt like he was drowning in Peter’s touch, and he let himself give into it.

Eventually, struggling for air, the two drew back in tandem, and Peter’s hand dropped to curl his fingers in Harley’s limp hand. “So?” he said, a nervous smile playing at his kiss-bitten lips.

“Oh my God, darlin’,” Harley croaked. “Don’t ever kiss me again unless you’re going to do that every single time, holy shit.”

Peter’s face, already flushed, deepened a shade. “You liked it, then?”

“I fucking loved it.” Harley pushed Peter’s shoulders, hovering over him, a breath apart. “I love you, Jesus Christ, you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” Peter’s blinding smile was consumed by Harley’s lips, and his fingers found their place and Harley’s hair once more.

**Author's Note:**

> hell y e a !! finally posted something lmao !  
> lmk what ur favorite part was in the comments! or just say something random i don't care  
> If you want to see what I'm doing on tumblr, mine is the-end-of-endgame  
> or, you can check out the artist who inspired this in the first place: wizard-stove. Give them some love!  
> see you around! yeehaw motherfuckers!


End file.
